


It's Touching, Really

by diblums



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Wing Grooming, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-12 08:21:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10486431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diblums/pseuds/diblums
Summary: Dean is suffering from a migraine. Cas puts out the inferno of pain in Dean's head, then experiences weakness of his own. Dean puts his soul on the line to help Cas, and finds a new ability to see Cas's wings. A whole new level of intimacy is discovered between them, and when Cas admits he can detect the changes in Dean's neurochemistry, Dean stops bothering to lie and bullshit his feelings.





	1. Touchy Feely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Biology betrays Dean, Cas finally calls him out and surprisingly, Dean chooses not to clam up and shrug it off. Some intimate soul-touching leaves Dean able to see Cas' wings.

Wrapped in robes and pyjamas Dean sat at the kitchen table. His aching head resting on his folded arms, the coffee maker gurgling nearby. From a distant hall, he heard a door open and shut, and footsteps begin to grow closer. When he heard shuffling around in the kitchen, Dean groaned, "hey Sammy."

With a voice of 80-grit sandpaper, Cas stammered. "Um, no, just me." Dean lifted his head and through narrowed eyes smiled at Cas. The angel tilted his head as his eyes scanned Dean. "You look unwell."

Dean scoffed. "Thanks, dude. I feel like shit." Dean leaned back, running a hand through his disheveled hair. As the coffee maker sputtered and settled down, Cas poured a mug for each of them and joined him at the table. Dean smiled and nodded in thanks.

"What is causing the illness? Your eyes have much more under-eye darkness than I’m used to."

"I’ve just got a migraine, it’s no big deal. Feels like there’s a forest fire inside my head." Dean took a sip of coffee and closed his eyes. He flinched as Cas’ hand was suddenly on his head, stroking him like a dog. Dean scowled at Cas, and grunted. "Dude, what–"

"This sensation is most unpleasant. I’m amazed you’re out of bed." With a cool glow from his hand, Cas stroked Dean’s head one final time. Dean blinked and shook his head, a divine coolness swirling through his skull and extinguishing the white-hot pain. Dean let out a long sigh of relief.

"Um, thank you. Cas. Wow." Dean ran a hand through his hair, then took a few gulps of coffee. He smiled at Cas, who wobbled and sat back down. "Hey, you alright dude?"

"It's fine– really, I’m ok." Cas leaned an arm on the table, holding himself upright.

"Well, you know what? I think that’s crap." Dean pushed Cas’ coffee mug towards him, Cas taking a weak sip. "What’s going’ on?"

"I’m not yet recovered from retrieving my grace. I’m slowly improving, but it will be a long time before it’s fully restored." Cas took another sip of coffee. "Perhaps I was quick to heal you."

Dean looked away, cheeks burning. "Damn it, Cas." Then a distant memory flashed through his mind. "Hey, what about that time you recharged by touching Bobby’s soul? You could do that to me, right?"

Cas smiled, shaking his head. "You are most peculiar, Dean. You shy away from contact despite my touch triggering an increase in phenylethylamine, testosterone, and epinephrine in your system. Yet, the first opportunity you’re offering up your soul for me to touch."

"Wow, uh, good morning?" Dean and Cas reeled to see a bewildered, half-asleep Sam towering in the doorway. "Am I interrupting something here?" Sam poured himself a coffee and stood by the counter.

Dean began, "well, uh–"

"I used my power to take away Dean’s migraine, but as a result, I drained myself more than expected." Cas watched as Sam considered everything.

"Oh, ok, so then Dean was offering to heal you back by letting you manhandle his soul. You’re right, Cas, it _is_ weird that he’s so squirrelly about touch, but practically throws his soul at you." Sam and Cas shared a laugh, Dean scoffing. "Oh come on, Dean, don’t get all indignant. You know we have a point."

"Yeah, well maybe I don’t want to talk about it." Dean stood, gathering his coffee.

"Dean, please," Cas croaked. Dean froze in place, looking at Cas with his jaw clenched. Cas lifted his head, blue eyes pleading with Dean. His features shifted, an ache in his heart for the battered angel.

Dean pulled his seat back under him and sat back down, and sipped his coffee. "Alright, you’re right."

"Woah, Dean, are you _maturing?_ " Sam grinned and drank his coffee.

"Hey. Don’t fuckin’ push it, bitch." Dean pointed at Sam and scowled.

Sam swallowed his coffee. _"…jerk."_ With an impish smirk, Sam turned and continued to the main hall leaving Dean and Cas with relative privacy.

"So, what were you saying about levels of pheromones? And testosterone? What the hell!"

Cas noted Dean’s white-knuckle grip of his coffee mug and took a deep breath. "It’s phenylethylamine, testosterone, and epinephrine. They’re all chemicals present in the human body. I have a sense of smell sensitive enough to detect the increase in your bloodstream when you see me. Your pupils also dilate and your heart rate increases. And blood accumulates under the skin of your face."

Dean felt himself blush at his mention of it, and he clenched his jaw. "I guess no matter how much I tell myself that’s not it, my body betrays me." He met eyes with Cas and noticed his pupils dilate as well. Dean couldn’t help but smirk. "But I don’t get it– I mean, I’m not gay," Dean whispered.

Cas closed his eyes before Dean could catch his eyes roll. "Dean, I am a millennia-old muti-dimensional being. I don’t have a gender analogous to humans."

"But, you know– you’re in a dude-vessel." Dean curled his shoulders forward.

"Would you prefer if I found a female vessel?" Cas asked flatly.

"No! No, no– I–" Dean stammered and placed his hand over Cas’. "Besides, this vessel is only you in there. If you took a different vessel, there’d be some poor chick in there along for the ride." Cas looked into Dean’s eyes, a smile crossing his face. "Don’t change. Ok? Don’t change just ‘cause I got some gettin'-over-myself to do, alright?"

"Thank you, Dean. And attraction is complex, attraction to one gender does not occlude attraction to someone who is not of that gender. I have experienced attraction to females as well, yet–" Cas snapped his jaw shut, blushing a deep red.

Dean tried to flatten out his grin. "Yet what, Cas?" Dean teasingly put a hand under Cas' chin, directing him to look at him. "What were you going to say?"

Cas inhaled deeply, then met eyes with him. "Yet–" Cas stood, taking Dean’s head in his hands and pressing his lips against Dean’s. He felt Dean’s skin burn hot under his touch, his lips frozen in place. Then yielding, Dean pressed his lips back against Cas'.

Dean broke away to gasp for air, letting a breathy "wow" from his lips. Cas wobbled again and sat back down. "Okay, c’mon, will you accept my help now?" Dean kept a hand on his arm, grounding him.

Cas gripped him back, nodding. "Let's go to your bedroom to do that, with your permission." Dean nodded, and helped Cas to his feet and led him down the hall.

"So first," Cas began, sitting beside Dean on the bed. "This is dangerous. That’s why doing this in the bedroom seemed wise: cut any distractions." Dean nodded. "Also, this is a rather intimate thing to do. Most people seek the bedroom for intimacy."

"Cas, can we just skip the foreplay?" Cas pushed him down flat on his back and then sat beside him.

"As you wish. This will hurt, so I apologize in advance." Cas extended his hand transdimensionally through Dean’s breastbone. Tendrils of his weakened grace reaching out to Dean’s soul, the sweet golden glow of Dean’s existence entangled with the electric blue of Cas’ grace. They formed like a braided rope connecting them.

As the connection strengthened, Dean looked up at Cas through narrowed eyes. Through gritted teeth, Dean huffed for air. He blinked a few times, trying to clear his eyes. _Nope, those are definitely wings,_ he thought. Their battered outline was clear behind Cas' back. The ache started to increase, and Dean slammed his eyes shut. A strained grunt escaped his throat.

Cas saw the pain in Dean’s clenched jaw, and began to disentangle his grace. Relieved, Dean took several slow breaths and steadied himself. He opened his eyes and looked at Cas. He was sitting up straighter, his eyes looked more alert. And– his wings looked whole. He could see through them, but they were visible.

"Woah, dude!" Dean sat up, wincing at the residual pain in his chest. He reached out to touch the closest wing, feeling an ethereal heat where his hand passed through them. Cas twitched, pulling the wing away at his touch. Dean turned and saw Cas stifling a giggle. "Wait, are you– ticklish?" Cas bit his lower lip, a redness in his cheeks.

"I suppose I am, it is a peculiar sensation." Cas shied away, but turned back see Dean with a look of genuine joy. Cas timidly brought the wing back closer to Dean. "Maybe you could try again?"

Dean’s lips split into a grin, and he reached out, stroking along the leading edge of the wing. Cas twitched a bit, giggles stifled in his throat. But he held his wing in place. Dean stroked across the wing’s edge a few times until Cas could bear the touch. With increased confidence of how to handle them, he switched to stroking the broad flight feathers. Cas’ little snorts and huffs turned to sighs of ecstasy, and then Dean began stifling laughter. Dean drew long, sweeping strokes along the feathers, working his way from his body to the tip of the wing. Through the bed, he felt a tremor and looked back to see Cas’ eyes rolled back in his head, mouth open in bliss. A much more human cue was clear in the ill-filling trousers, and Dean lost grip on his laughter.

Cas’ cheeks burned with embarrassment, and he folded his wings behind himself. "Sorry, I’m getting carried away." Cas’ body language closed, and Dean slid over closing the gap.

"Nothing to apologize for. You were telling me you can smell when I’m aroused, call us even. Now I’ve seen you aroused." Dean placed a firm hand on Cas’ shoulder.

"It’s complicated. Angels touching one another’s wings is not sexual, but it is a gesture of incredible trust to allow another to touch them. But with you, my vessel– how did you put it? Betrays the feelings I didn’t mean to share." Cas cautiously placed a hand on Dean’s thigh. "With you, it’s special. I just hope you can understand the meaning this has. No one has touched them before."

Dean’s eyebrows shot up. "Wait, really? You’ve never–?"

"Hanna and I came close, the desire was there for both of us. But she would always back out, mumble something about her mission, and pull away. Before that, I was the leader of my garrison, I couldn’t spare any part of myself for bonding while we were fighting a war." Cas took a long breath, then met Dean’s eyes.

Dean clicked his tongue behind his front teeth and reached his hand up to put his hand on Cas’ head. He pulled him close, gently holding his head against his own. "I’m sorry I did that without asking your permission, I had no idea what it meant." Dean’s heart twisted at the reminder that he's holding an ageless, eternal being. He has seen so much more than he can imagine. _"How can I possibly be enough for you,"_ he whispered.

Cas flared his wings, pulled his head back just enough to stare Dean straight in the eyes, holding him by the shoulders. "Enough of that, Dean. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to feel your hands in my plumage. And if you think that _the_ righteous man, written about from the beginning of creation isn’t satisfactory to this minor angel, I– I could just slap you." Cas’ brow furrowed at Dean’s laughter.

 _"How about a smack instead?"_ Dean reached up and held Cas’ head, leaning in and planting his lips against Cas’. Hearts racing, hands wandering, Dean slowly pulled back. He traced a finger down Cas’ cheek. "I think I still have to get used to the idea of sex with a– well, someone that’s not a woman. I’m not sure I’m ready for that yet."

Cas nodded, his wings relaxing. "Of course. But, could you keep stroking my wings?" Cas cheeks flushed a deep red as Dean let out a soft chuckle. He turned so they sat cross-legged on the bed, facing each other. Reaching under Cas' arms Dean massaged the obsidian feathers, slowly rubbing through the length. He stroked along the leading edges, watching the feathers fluff up slightly. He smiled as Cas' face communicated his ecstacy, mere inches from him.

"Is this ok? What I’m doing–" Cas nodded vigorously, so Dean continued. He noticed everywhere his fingers passed over the deep black feathers, a trace of electric blue shimmered. Transfixed, he continued to stroke. The slightest hint of honey-golden light from his fingers met the blue trails of light on the semi-visible wing surface.

"Can you brush through the feathers here," Cas breathed, pointing at the feathers closest to the base of the wings. Dean nodded, shifting his hands to approach the feathers at Cas’ sides.

One stroke through the feathers and Cas twitched, beating his wings. Dean pulled back, watching as the wind kicked up in the room and blew loose paper around. "Woah, are you ok?"

Gasping, Cas nodded. "It just feels so incredible. I’ll try to stay still." Cas brought his wings back to their forward position, feathers flared. Dean traced his fingertips over the surface, working up to burying his fingertips amongst the thick plumage. His fingers seemed to produce more golden light that intertwined with the blue from Cas’ wings, and Cas began to twitch. Maintaining his strokes, Dean looked up, and his eyes popped at seeing Cas’ eyes glowing brighter and brighter. "Dean, close your eyes tight, but _don’t stop."_

Pinning his eyelids shut, Dean continued to stroke by feel. The heat increased, and he noticed he could feel individual feathers between his fingers. He increased the firmness but slowed the strokes, savouring the texture between his fingers. The piercing call of Cas’ true voice grew louder and louder, and Dean winced to brace himself. He sped up the firm strokes, combing his fingers through the feathers. He felt the downy feathers closest to the middle were extra soft, so he moved his strokes inward. As soon as his fingers combed through the silky down feathers, Cas’ true voice grew to a shrill peak, and a great vibration shook Cas. Dean squeezed his eyes shut as hard as he could against the massive light searing through his eyelids, when the light and sound seemed to peak and then slowly subside. Cas’ great wings twitched just like– _oh._ The light seemed to have subsided, so Dean cautioned opening an eye.

Cas sat in front of him: head back, drooling, wings and body twitching rhythmically. Cas panted hard, slowly decreasing his respiratory rate, licking his lips of drool and blinking repeatedly. A residual glow in his eyes, he looked at Dean and pawed for him with a hand.

"Dean," Cas breathed. He leaned forward, planting a messy kiss on Dean’s lips. "Thank you, thank you so much."

Dean grinned and opened his mouth to speak, but a knock at the door caught the breath in his throat.

"Hey! Everything ok you guys?"

 _"Shit, Sam."_ Dean hissed. He got up, leaving the mess of Castiel heaped on the bed. "Hey," Dean said, opening the door.

Sam’s expression of concern morphed to confusion as he saw Cas slouching on the bed. "‘Sup?" Sam raised an eyebrow.

"Everything’s fine, nothing’s wrong, don’t worry about it." Dean nodded, grinning.

"But I heard angel stuff, and there was this flash of light from under your door–" A connection formed as Sam saw the way Cas flopped on the bed behind them and stretched out on top of the blankets. "You know what? Never mind, I trust you guys have things under control, I’m gonna, just, go now." Sam shuffled and then took off in long strides down the hall.

Dean shut his door and turned back to face the bed. Cas lay spread out, a crumpled mess of limbs. One wing folded under him, the other stretched lazily across the room. Dean climbed up onto the bed beside him, laying on his side and propping his head up. 

Cas sat up, taking Dean's head in his hands and kissing him. "Dean, that was amazing. But my vessel– did something." 

Dean smacked his palm to his face, laughter shaking him. "A bit of a sticky mess?"

Cas looked down at his pants, shifted uncomfortably, and grimaced at Dean. "Can I borrow some pyjama pants?"


	2. Angelic Shits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some more Destiel fluff, Dean hestates to go straight into sex, but some nudity does happen. And then Sam is the ultimate little brother, then Dean and Cas cuddle by the fireplace.

Cas flopped onto the bed, stretching his limbs out.  His whole body scintillating with electricity, the afterglow warm as Dean joined him on the bed . He sat up and grabbed Dean's head, bringing their lips together in a smack. "Dean, that was amazing." The movement brought a mess to his attention, and he shifted his hips with a grimace. "But my vessel– did something." Cas' cheeks burned as Dean facepalmed and laughed.

"A bit of a sticky mess?" Dean's eyes shimmered as he laughed. 

Cas looked down at himself, fidgeting at the discomfort. "Can I borrow some pyjama pants?" 

Dean nodded and rose, crossing the room and opening a dresser drawer. Cas stood, and began stripping himself of his clothing. Dean snorted, and Cas turned to face him. 

"Woah, hey–" Dean's expression remained blank as his mind churned. "I guess if you're ok with stripping in front of me– if we're, like, a  _thing_  now. Sure," He handed the bottom-naked Cas a pair of dark plaid flannel pyjamas and a black t-shirt.  

Cas took the folded clothes, holding them in front of himself. "I apologize, I forgot that nudity is an intimate thing. He raised his wings to take flight, but Dean reached for him. 

"Wait, you don't have to leave." Cas lowered his wings, folding them behind himself. "Listen, like I said, I got some gettin'-over-myself to do.  Maybe  a reasonable first step is seeing some nudity." 

Cas tilted his head and raised a brow. "Alright, I suppose." He set the folded sleepwear down and continued to strip the suit off. Trench coat, sport jacket, tie, shirt, all hit the floor in a pile.  Timidly , he turned to face Dean. "Well, that's everything." 

Dean stood admiring the sight, taking in the hard lines of bone structure and the powerful curves of muscle  . His cock laid soft,  neatly  curved over his balls. Dean smiled and tried to peer behind him. Cas obliged, turning his back to face Dean. Cas heard him make an unusual guttural sound and peered over his shoulder. Dean was gesturing his hands like he was squeezing something in the air. "What are you doing?" Dean met eyes with Cas, blushed and rested one arm at his side, the other hand rubbed the back of his head.  

"Um, it's nothing," Dean said with a nervous chuckle. "It's  just  that you have a very nice behind."  

"Do you desire to squeeze my buttocks?" Cas smiled as Dean turned impossibly  redder.  

" Maybe  a little," Dean said, looking away. Cas shifted, protruding his ass toward Dean. Dean drew a deep breath through pursed lips and stepped forward to grab Cas' butt.  The musculature was firmer than he imagined, and he caressed the curves before squeezing. 

Cas turned his head back and drew a long breath through his nose. He smiled and said, "your epinephrine and testosterone levels are increasing again."  

Dean grabbed Cas' hips, and pressed himself into Cas' back, grinding his erection on his lower spine through his own flannel pants . "This is true, Cas." He traced the tip of his nose up the back of Cas' neck, watching as his wing feathers stood on end. He kissed down the length of Cas' neck, stopping at his shoulders. 

Cas inhaled  deeply, trying to resist the urge to pound his wings and  fly  them to the outer plane of Nirvana, to mate and seal their pair bond in the lush forests of whispered longing. "Deeeeean," Cas breathed. He turned himself to face Dean, a wing passing through him as he did.  Dean gasped at the sensation and then plunged into a kiss, tongues embracing and tasting one another. 

Dean felt Cas' erection against his, and he pulled Cas' hips against him. He withdrew his tongue and through gritted teeth, a grunt escaped his throat. Cas sighed and flared his wing feathers, and placed his hands on Dean's hips. Cas leaned in to kiss Dean again, but Dean put his forehead against Cas'. They stood nose to nose, breathing each other's breath and hips swaying the slightest bit.  

"As much as my, um, chemicals are making my body react, I'm still shy about actually trying anything  just  yet." Dean breathed, closing his eyes as they stood holding each other's hips and swaying.  

Cas pulled his head back  slightly , pressed the tip of his nose against the tip of Dean's, and smiled. "Of course." He traced a finger down Dean's jawline, then turned and dressed in the sleepwear.  

They left Dean's room, Dean taking pause at the sight of Cas' wings in the hallway. Dean stopped, tilting his head. "So, could Bobby see your wings after you two, uh," Dean trailed off, ears burning hot.

"Not exactly. When I drew power from Bobby, I was only drawing power. But with you, as soon my grace reached out, your soul reached back. We formed a connection, and now you can see my wings as I can see your soul." Cas watched as Dean's features relaxed, and smirked to himself.  

"Ok, cool.  Just  curious." Dean stroked the nearest wing, the connection seemed to be growing. Each stroke came easier, if he focused his intent, his hand would connect with the wing as if it were solid. He turned and continued back towards the kitchen. Cas shook his head and followed. They entered the kitchen, taking their coffee to the main hall where Sam sat working on his laptop. 

Sam raised his head, eyebrows up, and said, "Hey guys." Dean's scowl seemed to only delight him further as he broke into a grin. "Have a good time?" 

"Yes," Cas said, deadpan.  

Sam laughed, lowering his head into his palm, then looking back up at them. Dean turned his back on them and began building up kindling in the fireplace. Sam looked up at Cas. "That's great!  Really." 

"Shut UP, Sam," Dean said through gritted teeth.  

"No, but  seriously. I'm happy to see you guys finally acknowledging this mutual–  _thing_ after all these years. It's about damn time." Sam smiled in earnest at Cas, who walked up and put a hand on his shoulder. 

"Thank you, Sam. I appreciate it."  Cas looked as Dean turned to scowl at them, but the scowl faded and Dean went back to crumpling paper to put under the kindling scaffold he'd made. 

"At the risk of getting a log thrown at me, I didn't know angels could, you know, orgasm. I mean, Dean used to call angels 'junkless,' right?" Sam looked up at Cas, genuine intrigue in his eyes. 

"Well, do remember that a Nephilim is made by  an angel mating with a human."  

"Right, that's true. How does that work?" Sam noticed the ridge in Cas' forehead deepen.

"I'm not sure. Being forbidden from existence, not much is known about them or how they are made. Presumably an angel mating with a human, but it's not as though we were enlightened as to the specifics of the biology. We were just told: don't." Cas watched Dean bending over the fireplace, biting his lower lip at the sight of Dean's backside tight against the flannel. 

Sam sat thinking for a moment, then snorted with laughter. Cas raised an eyebrow, so Sam shook his head. "Sorry, it's nothing."

Dean turned, glaring. "No, enlighten me, Sam. What's so funny?" 

"It's uh," Sam wheezed, "If Cas fucks you in the ass, do you then– have– angelic– shits?" Sam barely got the words out through his splutters of laughter. With a thunk, Cas caught the log Dean whipped at Sam. 

Dean sighed and turned back to the fireplace. He lit the corner of a piece of scrap paper and tucked it among the tinder. Cas returned the log to the wood pile and walked over to Dean. He placed a hand on his back, stroking up and down his spine. 

"D'awwww" Sam crooned. 

Dean stood up from the fireplace and placed his hands on Cas' hips. "Oh yeah, you think we're cute, Sammy?" Dean chided. He pulled Cas up against him, nose to nose. "How cute is this?" 

"Alright, alright." Sam turned back to his laptop. 

Dean gave Cas a quick kiss, then returned to building the fire. "Can you get us some cushions to sit on?"  

"Yes,  just  a moment." Cas beat his wings and vanished, the wind stoking Dean's fire brighter. Moments later, Cas returned with several large cushions. He tossed two by the fire, and one to the side. 

"Where did you get those?" Dean asked. 

"Ikea." Cas sat down on one of the cushions, then looked up at Dean, who was standing frozen and staring incredulously. 

"Uhhhh– why'd you go to Ikea?" 

"I couldn't find suitable cushions for sitting on in the bunker, so I went and got some." 

"Wearing that?" 

Cas looked down at his t-shirt and flannel pants. "Is that not  socially  acceptable?"  

"Generally not, no." 

Cas looked away, blushing. "Oh."  

Dean chuckled, checked the fire, then sat next to Cas on the other cushion. He turned and traced a finger down Cas' cheek, then back across the leading edge of his wing. Cas closed his eyes and smiled, his feathers fluffing up at Dean's touch. "It still blows my mind that you can do things like that.  You're like Rain Man to an extreme: you can do such incredible things, but simple social things never get through to you." 

Cas' gaze grew distant, his gaze focused a million miles away with the reflection of the fire dancing in his eyes. "I can feel it. Everything. The turn of the earth. The ground beneath our feet is spinning at a thousand miles an hour. The entire planet is hurtling around the sun at sixty-seven thousand miles an hour. And I can feel it. We're falling through space, you and me, clinging to the skin of this tiny little world." His accent seemed to shift from general American to Manchester as he spoke. Dean's eyes narrowed under his furrowed brow. 

"Wait, isn't that from Doctor Who?" Sam asked from the table.  _Sam the context man,_ Dean thought.  

Cas couldn't fight down his smile. "Yes. The ninth doctor is underrated," Cas said, his normal accent returning. Sam erupted into laughter, echoing through the hall. 

"And then you do something like that, and I have no idea what to make of it." Dean shook his head and resumed drawing long strokes across Cas' wing. Blue and golden light danced at his touch. 

"What are you doing?" Dean turned to see Sam watching, his head tilted. 

"It's weird, but I can see his wings now. And the more I play with them, the better I can feel them." Dean continued in long strokes along the leading edge until Cas began to fluff his feathers. 

" Really? Because it looks like you're  just stroking air, but there's a light show coming out of your fingers. That's strange, did the soul tap cause that?"  

"Yeah. Cas says when he tapped Bobby for energy, he only got energy. But when he tapped me, my soul reached out to him. Now we're connected, or something." Dean met eyes with Cas, and they smiled. 

"'We're connected, or something.'  Truly  poetic. _Bravo._ " Sam chuckled and closed his laptop. "Have fun, you two. I'm going to bed. Try not to get any angel-spunk on the ceiling."  

Dean waved, then turned to face the fireplace. He leaned his head against Cas' shoulder. 

"Can I tell you a secret?" Cas said, resting his head against Dean’s. 

"What," Dean asked, dread in his tone. 

"I could have cleaned up my clothes myself, I  just  wanted to wear pyjamas with you." 

Dean buried his face in Cas' shoulder and wrapped his arms around him. Cas wrapped Dean in his wings and free arm.


	3. I'd Rather Not Have to Rinse My Ass Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SEX! They have some very tender and consensual sex, and that's about it.

Dean woke to the feeling of Cas' fingertips massaging his scalp. He cracked his eyes open, seeing the deep orange, lethargic fire dwindling in the fireplace. He lifted his head, realizing Cas' lap had been his pillow. "How long was I out?" Dean croaked.

"Several hours, I think your migraine left you unable to rest adequately." Cas traced a finger along Dean's cheek. 

Dean glanced over, and his eyes narrowed. "Your wings are fading, I can't see them as well. What's going on?" 

"The connection we made was not permanent in nature, so the bond is fading." Cas reached out and took Dean's hand. 

"Can a permanent connection be made?" Dean squeezed Cas' hand. 

“It is possible, in theory." 

"In _theory?"_

"As I said to Sam: angel-human mating was forbidden, so there's no handbook detailing the process. But I have a theory on how to perform a pair bond between an angel and a human." Cas' eyes sparkled in the glow of the embers. 

Dean's heart felt warm in his chest, its pace increasing as he drank in Cas' form. His wings were nearly invisible now, and Dean reached for them. "Maybe this is fast, but I'm not sure I can go back to not seeing them." Dean bit his lower lip and drew a long breath in. "Let's test your theory." 

Cas' features darkened with concern, and he placed a hand on Dean's cheek. "Are you sure? I don't want to push you." 

Determination set in Dean's eyes as he stared straight into Cas'. "I'm sure." 

Cas stood, offering a hand to help Dean up. Once on his feet, Cas wrapped his arms around him in a tight embrace, and he beat his wings. They landed, Cas releasing the embrace and Dean looking around. 

"Dude, we coulda walked to my room," Dean said. 

"I'll be right back, don't leave." With a quick flutter, Cas was gone and back again, a bottle of lube in hand. Dean shifted his weight. "We don't have to do this, you said you weren't ready mere hours ago." 

"Would you _shut up._ I've made up my mind." Dean closed the gap between them, putting his hands on Cas' hips and pressing their foreheads together. "I'm nervous, but I trust you and want to try this. Humans are weird, we can feel things that don't make sense." 

"I believe it is referred to as cognitive dissonance." 

"Shut up." Dean smiled, putting a hand on Cas' neck and pulling him into a kiss. Their tongues met and caressed, drinking in the taste of each other. 

With one flick of his hand, their pyjamas were off and fluttering to the floor. Cas walked Dean backward to the bed, and Dean sat and swung his legs up. He slid away to provide room for Cas, who got on his hands and knees and crawled over. Cas plunged his tongue between Dean's lips once again and traced the tip of his finger up the length of Dean's shaft. 

Dean's nostrils flared as he filled his lungs. He buried his fingers in Cas' hair, a whimper hummed in his throat. Cas tenderly pulled away, placing a finger perpendicular to Dean's lips. "This may feel uncomfortable, I apologize in advance." Cas drew his hand across Dean's lower abdomen in a sweeping gesture, a strangled squeak escaping Dean's open mouth. 

"What?! What was–" 

"I'm sorry. After researching the steps human males take before mating with each other, this seemed a favourable alternative to the enema." Cas' face twisted with guilt, Dean's mouth hung open briefly, then he snapped his mouth shut. His head lolled side to side, then he began nodding. 

"In that case, thank you. You're right. I'd rather not have to rinse my ass out." Dean's teeth glinted in the dim room and a chuckle shook the bed. 

Relief washed over Cas, and he took Dean's head in one hand, diving into another kiss. Dean laid back, their full-masts knocking together as Cas straddled Dean. Dean reached down and placed a hand around both cocks, giving them a squeeze and gingerly stroking them. Cas spine curled, brushing his broad pecs into Dean's and arching his neck back. 

"I should get started preparing you," Cas said, his voice near a growl. Dean gave a short nod and timidly rolled onto his stomach. He gathered a pillow under his head and let out a long breath. Cas folded his legs under himself and started massaging Dean's back. Dean moaned, his body beginning to relax. 

Cas took great care to working his hands along Dean's back, coaxing the knots in the muscle to release. Only once his back and shoulders had been entirely relieved of tension did Cas begin to venture below the waistline. He dug his fingertips into the deep muscle of his ass, teasing the two sides apart. 

"Are you still consenting to this?" Cas asked, tracing the soft pad of his fingertip across Dean's opening. 

Lifting his head and turning to look at Cas, he said, “Yes. I want this. I want you." His eyes shimmered, and Cas fluffed his feathers as desire swelled inside and out. He took the bottle of lube and with a quick gesture increased the temperature to match Dean's skin. He poured the thick lube in the great crevice of Dean's ass, using a fingertip to drag it across his opening. He traced his fingertip across the dip of his anus slowly. 

Then he applied gentle pressure, feeling Dean's muscles yield and his fingertip slip in. He released pressure and let the fingertip slide back out. Then in, then out. By millimeters he worked his fingertip in more, up to the first knuckle and applying more lube. Dean squeezed the pillow and let out a long sigh, looking back at Cas and biting his lower lip. 

"Are you ok with this." Cas tilted his head. 

"Yes, oh _fuck yes._ Please keep going," Dean said, breathy. Cas nodded, and rubbed lube on the entire length of his fingers. The gentle massage of his opening continued, Cas adding more pressure to the sides, preparing it for his thick cock. 

When he got up to three fingers and could feel give, he slipped his fingers out. He began coating his aching cock in lube, his wings twitching. Dean moaned softly, "Cas," and raised his ass off the bed. "I want you to fuck me." At his plea, Cas' feathers flared and splayed, and his cock throbbed with the _need._

Cas positioned himself over Dean, lining up the head of his cock with Dean's begging ass. The head slipped in with ease, and Dean moaned with ecstasy. Cas very slowly drew back and forth, slipping in further in micro increments. He generously applied more lube and worked in until the entire shaft was in. He propped himself up on two hands, lowered his mouth to the back of Dean's head and drinking in the aroma of Dean's sweat and blood chemistry. All the same hormones and neurotransmitters as before, but now oxytocin sweetened his scent. 

"Ready?" Cas breathed into the back of his head. 

"Cas, please. Yes," Dean begged. He rotated his hips, pressing his butt into Cas. "Please.” Cas softly bit the back of Dean’s neck. 

With a long draw, Cas pulled himself almost out, then all the way back in. He repeated this long stroke again, Dean hummed with pleasure. As Cas increased speed, Dean cried out. Cas inserted himself until their bodies lie flush together, and he wrapped an arm around Dean's torso and brought his nose to the back of his head. "Are you ok?" 

"Oh fuck yes, don't stop," Dean cried, squeezing the pillow. 

"This is where the pair-bonding rite gets into the theoretical, so I'm not sure what's going to happen." Cas squeezed the arm around Dean and buried his nose in his hair. He planted a kiss, then resumed the long strokes in and out. He spread his wings, stretching them high behind his back, and he reached under to Dean's chest and placed his hands over Dean's pecs. He pressed his hands _through_ his chest, just enough to open a gateway between his grace and Dean's soul. Blue and gold reached for one another, spinning long fibers connecting them. 

Cas' thrusts picked up speed. He found a spot that when rubbed sent tremors through Dean's body and caused cries of pure euphoria. Cas felt himself approaching climax, his true voice's cries of rapture growing in strength. The long tendrils striped blue and gold grew, white hot energy running between them. They swelled as Cas reached a peak, barely hearing Dean's screams of pleasure over his own voice. 

Cas' cock pumped Dean's insides full of hot semen, his thrusts came to a halt deep inside him. Dean's cock gave a great twitch and shot his sticky mess under himself. The great ropes of soul and grace flashed and slowly faded. Cas' wings hung twitching behind him, his head spinning. Dean lay whimpering and quivering beneath him, a great shudder rattling his spine. Cas gingerly lowered himself and rested his weight on Dean's back. He buried his nose in the back of Dean's head, gasping for air and taking in the sweet smell of oxytocin and dopamine. 

He could feel both bodies trembling, and he slipped off and dropped his weight into the mattress beside Dean. His satiated cock slipped out, and with a quick gesture, everything was dry and clean. They lay nose to nose, staring into each other's eyes. In Dean’s eyes, Cas noticed a spot of blue shimmering among the golden caramel of his soul. In Cas’ eyes, Dean watched a golden spot churn among the deep ocean of Cas' grace. 

After a long silence, Dean inched closer. He kissed Cas tenderly, slipping his tongue into the angel's mouth briefly and then sealing the kiss. "There are no words," Dean breathed. He rolled onto his side and interlocked fingers with Cas. He looked up, a smile growing to a grin as he saw Cas' wings fully corporeal. They hung heavy, raven black and slick with sweat and oil. Cas brought his wing up and rested it over him. Dean stroked gently along the edge of the wing, then along the long feathers. He tried to get up to massage his wings, but his body trembled and collapsed under him. 

"Dean, please. Relax." Cas stroked Dean's cheek, then ran his fingers through his hair. Dean rolled over and folded himself along Cas' body like a spoon, and Cas flicked the blanket out from under them and covered them. He snuggled up to Dean and relaxed his body, and stroked Dean's hair as he drifted off into a deep sleep. Cas folded his wings around Dean, buried his nose in the back of Dean’s neck, and closed his eyes. _“Ol aziazor elasa,”_ Cas moaned.


End file.
